


but for the fall

by sexyspork



Series: head in the dust, feet in the fire [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (as much as androids could be parented anways), Alternate Universe, Amanda Stern is alive, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Cyberlife's A+ Parenting, Fuck you CyberLife, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), casual disregard of canon, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyspork/pseuds/sexyspork
Summary: The other is here, with him.(aka pregame DeviantHunter!Connor and DeviantKiller!Conrad AU.)





	but for the fall

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel sequel to 'if life is pain, then I buried mine'. (And I may or may not have looked into cult psychology for this.)

The other is here, with him.  
  
They have yet to interact, only catching rare glimpses from stasis pods and assembly stations. Their individual software is still being integrated within their systems, bugs and glitches being methodically carved from their core. Worthless broken bits of code interfering with the perfect machines CyberLife is creating. It has been too much of a risk to allow interaction at this point, the data points too precious to allow any outside contamination, even if they themselves are not precious at all.  
  
So to be here, with the other, is unprecedented.  
  
Their handler has taken a seat at the table before them, a harsh faced woman whose likeness is being made into an AI. They will always have a handler, built into the very core of them, a guiding force to hold their leashes.  
  
They are machines, and as such must be given orders to obey.  
  
The other's fingers twitch from their lax position at his side, and Dr. Stern looks at him critically. The RK900 knows she must have found a flaw that will soon be corrected, be it through physical disassembly or finely sliced code in The Garden.  
  
It is of no matter. They are machines.  
  
"RK900," there's something of approval in her voice as she turns to him, and **Software Instability**

Her eyes flick over to the other, narrowing ever so slightly, "RK800."  
  
She taps a nail on the black case resting in front of her, incongruous and unassuming on the table. Every movement is clearly calculated, assessing their reactions, but little is given away in the darkness of her eyes.  
  
"You both have been online for a week; congratulations," her words are anything but. "So far, your performances have been adequate, so you both will be granted your designations."  
  
The _tap tap tap_ of her nail pauses as she undoes the clasp, pulling a small quarter dollar coin from its depths. Sliding it over to the other, she continues, "RK800, hereby known as Connor."  
  
Connor nods, eyes flicking between Amanda and the coin as he hesitantly picks it up, "Designation confirmed."  
  
"A lag has been noted between your core processor and your fine motor control system. This will allow you to calibrate your motions until our engineers fix this error." There's a deliberate pause until Connor slowly rolls the coin over his knuckles, fingers unaccustomed and unwieldy, LED flashing yellow in concentration.  
  
"RK900," he turns his attention to her, and there is a glimpse of self-satisfaction in the curl of her lips. She withdraws a sleek black handgun from her case, sliding it across the table. A Glock 27, GEN12, .40 Smith  & Wesson cartridge, he categorizes as he picks it up, automatically checking it over. "Hereby known as Conrad."  
  
"Designation confirmed," he acknowledges, looking away from the glock and to the other. His fingers have stilled, but his LED is still churning a nauseating yellow.  
  
"Now, face each other." Her tone is flat as they turn, movement smooth and synchronized. They were designed to be compliments, after all.  
  
"Put the gun to his head, Conrad."  
  
There is no hesitation as he swings his arms up in a smooth arc, reacting before the last syllable leaves her lips. Conrad meets the other's eyes, watching as his head tilts ever so slightly in confusion, face otherwise expressionless, _emotionless_ , but his eyes... The other's eyes are a warm brown, trusting and kind and perfect for aiding his integration with humanity. Conrad wonders what his own looks like in comparison.  
  
"You are the very best Cyberlife has to offer, Conrad." There's something in Connor's eyes at that, an ever so subtle flutter of eyelashes, though his grip tightens around the coin in his hand. "Make me proud."  
  
He can see her nod from the corner of his eyes and Connor closes his own.  
  
He pulls the trigger.  
  
**Software Instability**

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me wants to do a In God We Trust meta about Connor's coin, cause you know, Amanda is set up to be his God, benevolent and wrathful in turns. And I do have a reasoning for why I chose the instabilities I did.
> 
> \--
> 
>   _You let your feet run wild_  
>  Time has come as we all oh, go down  
> Yeah but for the fall oh, my  
> Do you dare to look him right in the eyes?
> 
>  
> 
> Way Down We Go - Kaleo


End file.
